


High Lady.

by fcktamlin



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, More Ships to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 14:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12191325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fcktamlin/pseuds/fcktamlin
Summary: I screamed until my voice was hoarse and broken. Until no sound came out.Rhys was dead.I was alone.





	1. Chapter 1

ALL THAT IS [BRACKETED] IS THE WORK OF SARAH J. MAAS. IT IS NOT MY ORIGINAL WORK.

 

[We had done it. We had done–

I turned.

It took me a moment to grasp it. What I saw.

Rhys was sprawled on the rocky ground, wings draped behind him.

He looked like he was sleeping.

But as I breathed in–

It wasn’t there.

That thing that rose and fell with each breath. That echoed each heartbeat.

The mating bond.

It wasn’t there. It was gone.

Because his own chest..it was not moving.

And Rhys was dead.

Blank faces.

I screamed at them, “BRING HIM BACK.”

Nothing.

“You did it for me,” I said, breathing hard. “Now do it for him.”

“You were a human,” Helion said carefully. “It is not the same–”

“I don’t care. Do it.” When they didn’t move, I rallied the dregs of my power, readying to rip into their minds and force them, not caring what rules or laws it broke. I wouldn’t care, only if–

Tarquin stepped forward. He slowly extended his hand toward me.

“For what he gave,” Tarquin said quietly. “Today and for many years before.”

And as that seed of light appeared in his palm…I began crying again. Watched it drop onto Rhys’s bare throat and vanish into the skin beneath, an echo of light flaring once.

Helion stepped forward. Then Kallias. And Thesan. Even Beron. I summoned a kernel and laid it gently on Rhys’s blood-encrusted throat.

And I realized, just as he appeared, what was missing.

Tamlin stood there, summoned by either the death of a fellow High Lord or one of the others around me. He was splattered in mud and gore, his new bandolier of knives mostly empty.  
He studied Rhys, lifeless before me. Studied all of us–the palms still out. Those green eyes swimming with some emotion I couldn’t place.

“Be happy, Feyre,” he said quietly.

And dropped that final kernel of light onto Rhysand.

 

 

I had not witnessed it–when it had been done to me.]

So all I did was hold on to him. To his body, to the tatters of that bond. And I began to tell him our story. The story of a scared, sad girl who was sent the glory of the night from the most beautiful male she had ever seen. The story of the most powerful fae male and his strong mate. The story of how the girl found a new family, a new home, one that was loving and loyal and powerful.

The story of the stars who listen and the dreams that are answered.

I waited for a response. Anything.

But nothing happened. There was no flicker of light down the bond, no thud in his chest. Moments passed. I didn’t know how much time had passed. I clung to his body, his lifeless body, for what felt like both an eternity and a split second.

“Feyre,” a low, cracked voice said behind me. “Feyre there’s nothing more. Feyre he’s…” Cassian’s voice, I could hear it now, fell away.

“Feyre he’s gone,” Nesta completed the sentence. I turned to her and found tears streaking down the gore splattered all over her face.

“No. No. NO!” I kept screaming.

Even as Mor tore me away from my mate, as Azriel held me back, as Cassian stepped forward and kneeled to scoop his High Lord into his arms, as he flew away, I screamed. I screamed as the rest of the High Lords left with broken faces. I screamed as Azriel scooped up Elain and flew off the battlefield. I screamed as Mor winnowed the rest of us back to Velaris.

I screamed until my voice was hoarse and broken. Until no sound came out.

Rhys was dead.

I was alone.


	2. Chapter 2

“Feyre, you must eat,” Nesta’s voice was firm, but weak and low. She pushed a bowl of bland crackers towards her youngest sister, hoping to entice the High Lady to put some sort of energy in her body.

Feyre’s eyes met Nesta’s identical ones. “I’m not hungry.”

What scared Nesta, and Cassian and Mor who were both watching, wasn’t the words coming out of Feyre’s mouth, but her voice. It wasn’t broken or weak…it was simply dead. Nesta glanced over to Cassian who was staring at Feyre’s unkempt hair and tired face.

“Feyre…” he began to say, but Feyre held up her hand and gave a slight shake of her head. So he dutifully walked out of the room, Nesta following close behind. Mor stayed for a moment and laid a hand on Feyre’s shoulder.

“It will be okay,” she whispered in Feyre’s ear. “You will be okay.” She kissed Feyre’s head and walked out of the kitchen into the living room.

Elain was sitting on Lucien’s lap in one of the armchairs. Her face was a mask of concern.

“Is she eating?” The small voice echoed throughout the room and Nesta shook her head. Lucien heaved a sigh.

“Mor,” Cassian looked to his friend, “how long until Keir comes?”

Mor flinched briefly at her father’s name. “Fifteen days. We have time to prepare, but barely.” She looked to the kitchen. “We need her.”

“She’ll come around,” Azriel declared from the corner.

“Where the fuck did he come from?” Nesta whispered under her breath. Az smirked at her, though somehow his eyes still remained grim.

“What do you mean ‘she’ll come around?’” Lucien asked from across the room. “She needs to lead, to protect, to act as High Lady. She has a court to take care of right now, and the Court of Nightmares, as you call them, will be invading soon. We need to have a plan.”

“She lost her mate!” Mor cried out. “Is she not allowed to mourn?”

“Not when her court hangs in the balance. Not when she is the leader that everyone, including us, is looking to.” Lucien’s face was hard as Elain turned in his lap to face him.

“Leave her be.” Elain’s voice was firm. “At least for now. She has us and we can help to figure out this Nightmares visit.” Lucien bowed his head and nodded. At the mention of Nightmares, Mor crumpled to the ground, caught at the last second by Azriel. He hauled her up in his arms and pressed her face into his neck, murmuring in her ear. Elain rushed up to comfort her and apologize, but, suddenly, Azriel and Mor both disappeared into the shadows.

“Well,” Nesta huffed. “I guess that’s the end of this discussion.” Nesta eyed Elain’s position on Lucien’s lap warily before exiting the room, tugging Cassian behind her.

They walked down the hallway to the library.

“Why are we heading in here, Nes?” Cassian’s hand engulfed hers as he trailed behind. She shot him an annoyed look at the nickname but turned back around to open the heavy door. She quickly walked over to a bookshelf filled with darker spines. She plucked one from the stack with Nightmares inscribed on the front.

“We’re researching.”

 

 

 

“Mor, look at me. Breathe Mor.” Azriel took the tearstained face in his hands and faced it towards him. Mor’s eyes opened and he could see the anguish in her eyes. “He will not hurt you, Mor. They will not hurt you. You will be safe.” A sob broke through Mor again. Azriel pulled her to his chest and stroked his fingers through her hair.

“Why did you do this, brother?” he whispered. “Why did you break her?”

 

 

Lucien felt Elain’s delicate body sag into him as soon as the others left the room. He nuzzled into her neck in an attempt to comfort her. A futile attempt.  
“I didn’t mean to upset her.” His mate’s voice was small and quiet.

“She knows Elain, she knows. It’s a difficult time now, my dove.” He pressed a small kiss to her neck and felt the bond thrum with appreciation. Then she went still. A few minutes went by before she spoke up with what was on her mind.

“I never got to know him, Lucien.” She turned to face him and he spied the tears quietly streaming from her beautiful grey eyes. “He was my sister’s husband, her…mate. And I never knew him. I’ll…I’ll never know him.” He pulled her into his chest and stroked her back. He sent warmth and love down the bond, hoping to comfort her even a small bit.  
“If it makes you feel better, El…not many did. I–I called him a whore for the better part of the last century. And I’m sure I’ve done worse to him than he’s ever done to me or my court. I didn’t even trust him during my time here, Elain. I never got the chance to trust him and now he’s sacrificed his life for me.” Elain’s neck became damp with Lucien’s tears. He tried to hastily wipe them away, but his mate caught his hands. She looked up from his chest and kissed his cheek.

“He knew, Lucien. He knew you were cautious but he knew your heart. And Lucien,” she looked into his eyes and the love captured in her gaze undid him, “mate, you have a good heart.”  
His throat burned with unshared emotion. He knew she thought she was speaking the truth, but she was far from it. She didn’t know the things he had done, the things he had said…how he had treated the High Lord.

Lucien supposed he wasn’t the High Lord anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates about posting schedule posted on my tumbr: fck-tamlin!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

The library was beginning to smell stale. Nesta usually loved the smell of old books and coffee, but after three full days of being holed up in the room with a ginormous Illyrian…the feeling of being trapped was beginning to wear on her. And it would help if Cassian stopped elbowing her every five seconds.

“Cassian!” she yelled at him for the fifth time that hour.

“What?” His puppy-dog eyes flicked to hers and she almost melted. Almost.

“You have to go. You’re too big for this room.” He winked at her. She groaned. “Just go sleep. I’ll see you…soon.” Cassian sighed.

“Okay,” he whispered. He left a lingering kiss on her forehead and walked out of the room.

Nesta looked back to the book she was reading and brushed away a fallen tear. Get it together. Now is not the time for stupid emotions.

So she read.

“The diplomatic relationship between a Court and its High Lord must be one of mutual respect and aid. Should the High Lord involve himself in any arguments, battles, or wars, the Court must supply him with forces, armed or otherwise. Should the Court need assistance in any crises involving trade, food, or health, the High Lord must supply the Court with funds to help replenish what is lost and fulfill what is needed.

“Should this relationship turn foul or should one of the parties not provide such assistance in any way or should a party commit an act found absolutely horrifying by the other (and equally horrifying by a forum of equal parts), one party may secede from the union of Court and High Lord.”

Nesta’s eyes widened. “One party may secede…” she whispered. “We can secede.”

She jumped out of her chair with more enthusiasm than she believed she had ever felt. The books that had been sitting in her lap tumbled to the ground. She quickly walked out of the small library and down the hall to the common area, stopping briefly to inhale the fresh air. The scent of the sea and the freshness of night brought a smile to her face. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

 

 

Elain decided to make some bread. It was one of the only things she knew how to do in the kitchen. One of the only things she knew how to do, period.

She was in the middle of kneading the dough on a flour-covered table when she heard a creak in the doorway.

“Azriel,” she said without turning around. She could feel the cool lick of his shadows from across the room.

“I don’t know what to do, Elain.” His voice was low and wobbly. She turned around and saw that his eyes were red and lined with tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, Az!” She raced around the table and flung her arms around him. He nearly collapsed at her touch and she fought to hold him up. Slowly they sank to the floor, his tears staining her linen shirt. She quietly comforted him, whispering in his ear about he could make it through this, he was strong enough, he was the best person she knew.

“Shhhhh, shhh. It’s going to be okay.” She took his face in her hands and swiped her thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “Do you want to help me make bread?” A sad smile that nearly broke her heart spread across Azriel’s face.

So they got up and began to knead the bread together. Az grabbed a bowl and they deposited the ginormous mass of dough into it, covering it with a dishtowel with the Night Court emblem embroidered on it.

“What do we do now?” Az said, turning to Elain.

“We wait. For about an hour, maybe a little less.”

“Oh.”

“What do you want to do while we wait?”

“I should probably go check on Mor. I need to help her out, make sure she’s okay at least for right now. I can’t believe I left her in her room, alone. I can’t believe–”

“Az. What do you want to do?”

Azriel didn’t have an answer. It was a question he was rarely asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates on the posting schedule posted on my tumblr: fck-tamlin!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be posting regular updates on my Tumblr!!! fck-tamlin! be sure to follow to stay updated


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